


(i’ll be there when your reality drowns)

by ElasticElla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/F, Lands of Magic Challenge Community, Sirens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: The woman is pale as death, with wild dark curls, and Rosmerta has the tiniest spark of self-preservation remind her that her wand is at the other end of the canoe, closer to this enchanting stranger than herself.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Madam Rosmerta
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: Enemies to Lovers - Graveyards - Hair - October/November 2019, Ladies Bingo 2019





	(i’ll be there when your reality drowns)

**Author's Note:**

> title from kailee morgue's siren
> 
> for the fae ficathon, [come join us \o/](https://elasticella.dreamwidth.org/22891.html)

Once upon a time, a long time ago indeed, a mermaid and a fairy fell in love. Or, as close to love as either people can claim. Such possession and devotion gave rise to a new species, with all the fairies’ cunning and all of the mermaids’ pretty lies: sirens. 

Rosmerta isn’t thinking about any of that as she paddles between the Hass Isles. She’s lives a simple life for a witch, and didn’t take enough CoMC classes to identify the coral road below her as anything more than a curious attraction. Pearly shades of blue and pink and purple wink up at her through the gentle waves, and while it makes the journey pleasant, the underwater road means nothing more to her. 

Thus Rosmerta never notices the fairies running faster than the sunlight from one isle to another, faces deep green when they reach their destination and come up for air. (Their passengers are often humans, dark red and more likely to let air bubbles escape.) She doesn’t notice the not-quite-human creatures swimming about, nor the mermaids (those at least she could recognize on sight). 

She doesn’t notice a single thing out of the ordinary until a head pops out of the water, two manicured hands latching onto the side of her boat. The woman is pale as death, with wild dark curls, and Rosmerta has the tiniest spark of self-preservation remind her that her wand is at the other end of the canoe, closer to this enchanting stranger than herself. 

Her red lips curl up, and she idly wonders if the coloring is innate or magic, innate would definitely mean poisonous. “Hello, my name is Bellatrix. Who are you?” 

“Rosmerta,” she replies instantly, internally cursing herself. She knows better than to give her real name to strangers, especially strangers that show up on the side of her boat. (If only her best friend Aurora hadn’t caught ill, she was always the cautious one between them.)

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Where are you going golden-haired?” 

Running a bar means she’s rather well acquainted with flirtatious lines, but her cheeks still betray her like she is a girl again, burning bright red. “To Tuss Isle,” she replies, cursing her tongue again for telling the truth before her mind can stop it. 

“How fortuitous, I’m heading that way. Might I swim beside you? It gets so lonely in the sea.” 

“Does it? I mean, of course! Do you want to er-” Rosmerta cuts herself off as she sees the woman’s tail for the first time, a stunning glistening black. 

“I thought humans didn’t believe in staring?” 

Her cheeks heat even more, blood rushing to her ears. “I’m sorry I-” 

Bellatrix’s head cocks to the side, and Rosmerta deliberately keeps her eyes up. (She still catches the edge of an areola peaking out of the water, could doubtless see-)

“I jest. Or have humans forgotten how to laugh as well?” 

“No, I- you’re pulling my leg,” Rosmerta accuses. 

Bellatrix’s laughter rings out, and she finds herself leaning closer, would follow the glorious sound anywhere. 

“So enchanting,” she murmurs, but the words come from the wrong lips- _Bellatrix_ is the enchanting one. She looks, sounds, even smells too good to be real. Bellatrix’s fingers brush over her knuckles, her every nerve alight, and Rosmerta can’t help but think of the one remaining sense.

“Kiss me,” Bella croons, and she must be in her head, Rosmerta leaning over the edge to capture those red lips. Leaning too far, she topples forwards into the cold water and Bellatrix’s hands are solid on her waist, keeping their lips connected. Rosmerta laughs into the kiss, delirious with delight. 

And Bellatrix takes her down, down into the deep sea where no light shines.


End file.
